This is my story and is also posted elsewhere.
*****
You walk in front of the arguing couple. Their alpha stench is flooding your nose trying to avoid them.
You don't get how they're even a couple. You don't get what they are. You just know to stay out of the fucking way when they argue because it turns violent and bloody, which turns into sex that is violent and bloody.
You admit that it's a turn on, the alpha sex pheromones are hard to shake and these two together are an oddly delicious combination of scents--Logan is all alpha spice and musk with an earthy crispness, and Wade is ozone, astringency like in wine, and a soft alpha spiciness-- but you're not gonna tell them. You work together and need to stay professional, but Logan and Wade are assholes who have no concept of personal space or privacy. They've even done sexual harassment seminars and similar with and without you but alphas don't listen when it's about their territory.
Your room, however, is not said territory. Small mercies.
They walk around your shared bungalow naked nearly half the time. Despite Wade looking like a burn victim or something, he's hot af and a grower, while Logan is just ripped af and hung like a goddamn horse; it doesn't surprise you that they're together. Wade, as silly and annoying as he is, is a sweetheart and really kind unless you're a bad guy who hurts people. Logan, self-worth issues aside, tries so damn hard and will push himself even if he believes it could actually kill him--very little can actually kill either of them. You've asked, like this one time you found something dark grey in a glass corked bottle amongst the dishes in the sink. When you asked the two who happened to be on the couch watching Jeopardy, Wade raised his hand as if called by a teacher yelling, "It's mine." He proceeded to get up, remove it from the sink, and put it in their room. (Never to be seen again. You've looked.) When you looked at Logan, he shrugged and said, "He's probably gonna try to kill himself again. I told him no more bloodshed. We can't afford to get the carpets professionally cleaned just because he's bored."
You unlock the bungalow with a sigh.
"Come on, babe," whines Wade.
Logan grunts, walking past you both to turn to their shared room. Wade does the same, pushing you against the door with a "oof" following Logan like a puppy.
"What happened to me being Sweden?" You quietly ask no one. You close the door and walk to your bedroom and straight into the en-suite, stripping off your bloody and damaged suit. Gonna have to send it for repair and a wash. Once the suit is in the company's specialty hamper, you look in the mirror. Your peculiar eyes staring back: heterochromia is what you've been told; your eyes have two separate colors circling each other, warm brown on the outside with olive green on the inside. You're also short--5'3" with a rather round tummy, a pooch that refuses to go away no matter how much stretching and jogging you do, and thunder thighs is a pretty apt description but useful for running--halfway up is covered in pale, silvery stretch marks from when you went through a major growth spurt as a teenager among old, faded scars that litter them.
Similar faded scars spread across your arm, shining in the mirror as you turn to your side and eye your butt. At least your butt gets compliments. You barely have a C-cup, and your suit makes you look nearly flat chested with its built-in compression garments for health and safety. Depending on your mood, there are times where you feel more masculine so it works well most days. Rolling your eyes, you flex your arms and back--more thin scars across your back from battles past--loving how your muscles and form look. They make you feel strong just looking at them. Strength training has been going well for you thanks to your new trainer, Bucky.
"Fuck you, Wade," yells Logan, stomping from their room into the shared space.You can hear him approaching, but figure he'll knock before he opens the door. "Hey, I need to--"
Your mouth drops open, eyes wide as you gasp at his intrusion.
He's naked, dark hair encompassing his body, defined pecs and abs followed by that show of alpha cock encased in strong thighs. He smells bitter, probably angry at Wade's antics, but his body seems to relax as he leans against the bathroom doorway with warm eyes. His scent quickly shifts to his usual calm with a hint of the more spicy alpha arousal, bringing you out of your shock.
Gritting your teeth, you point at your door.
"Get out, Logan," your omega challenges his alpha at the obvious territory dispute. You've always been a "different" omega because of your alpha tendencies, such as territorial instincts and moments like this, challenging Alphas no matter your presentation.
He smirks and moves into your space, forcing you to step back. He leans over you and crowds you against the wall. "Sweetheart, I always wondered what was under that suit. You've been holding out on us."
"Us?" You exhale. Wait, have they been talking about you naked?
He leans down, sniffing your shoulder and up your neck, rubbing his nose across your sensitive scent gland. You shudder as instinct takes over-- turning your head, revealing your vulnerable neck, an act of submission to the alpha as you gasp under his soft touch.
"Ooo, responsive," purrs Wade from the doorway. You eye his form, your brows furrowed and lips thin. His naked form leans long against the doorframe with his arms and ankles crossed.
Logan looks over his shoulder and growls. "I was here first."
"I don't mind sloppy seconds, babe."
You squeak.
"What do you say?" The alpha smirks.
You glare up at him.
"I say NO," you yell the last word, glaring at The Wolverine. Your omega rolls over and shows its belly. Slut, you think. Your human mind is very angry and you make sure your scent shows that.
Logan backs away with Wade following suit. They raise their hands in surrender as you follow them into your bedroom. You walk to the doorway, arms crossed, teeth bare and growling.
"First of all, my room. Second, I am a person, not a plaything. Third, I won't have you busting into my room because it's more convenient for you and you decide to switch into your suave, flirty mode. I don't think so."
"Heh, suave and flirty mode," Wade chuckles. "He does have that mode."
"Shut up, burn victim," you growl, scent souring again.
"Hey, that was uncalled for," Logan snaps. Red flashes in his eyes, revealing his anger at your words.
You ignore him. If he wanted you to be nice, he should have knocked. "You two came into MY room," you begin.
Baring your teeth, fangs down, you take a step towards them ignoring their nude forms and yours as you give them a dressing down. "Unannounced and WITHOUT permission." You growl, your omega demanding they know this is your territory. Silence ensues.
It takes a few moments to rein your omega in, working to inhale slower only to scent strong alpha arousal and something enticing, like being wanted but more, something like you've never smelled from anyone...admiration Your omega perks up, eyes flashing gold at the realization. It takes you by surprise. You're suddenly curious about their commitments, so you press your luck. "Besides, didn't anyone ever tell you that consent is sexy in all aspects, fellas?"
You don't normally just fuck people. You need strong emotional entanglement to really find someone attractive, let alone have sex; so, it isn't normally an easy thing, but in this case, it is with how long you've known the couple. You and Logan get along rather easily and have some similar interests. He takes your desire to info dump in stride and always humors you. You and Wade tend to flirt a lot. You just never knew how much he meant it until now, no matter how crudely it was informed. Temptation awaits.
